Pixies

I think it's safe to say that, ten years after their demise, the Pixies have finally been given their ...

I think it's safe to say that, ten years after their demise, the Pixies have finally been given their due. Those of us lucky enough to have been fans of the band during their too-brief, five-year lifespan know all too well how they never quite got the respect they deserved. Sure, local and national rags praised these caustic Boston geeks from the day they first arrived on the scene, but the Pixies' profound, lasting impact on both underground and popular rock music would take years to truly register.

But this is, after all, how these things often go; true greatness is usually recognized after the fact, if only because it takes time for the ripple of influence to reach shore. Kurt Cobain brought some attention to the band's radiating importance by quipping, in his typical self-deprecating fashion, that "Smells Like Teen Spirit" was a Pixies ripoff. It was, in fact, an homage. But even then, at the height of the 'alternative' boom, the Pixies were only considered very good or great; not recognized, as they are today, as one of the best American rock bands ever.

So it pains me to give this album anything less than a 10. As one might expect, the nine tracks on this 18-minute album are outstanding, though most of them carry an asterisk. So let's backtrack. In March 1987, after forming several months earlier, the Pixies recorded a 17-song demo cassette at Boston's hallowed Fort Apache studios that came to be known as "The Purple Tape." The cassette attracted the attention of many, including Ivo Watts-Russell, head of England's influential 4AD label, who issued eight of the demos as the band's debut EP, Come on Pilgrim.

Perhaps I'm biased, having heard that EP long before the demos here, but for the most part, he chose the right songs for Pilgrim. This isn't to say the tracks here are worse, but later in their career the band recorded better versions of most of them. Consider the opener here, "Broken Face." Once you've heard the version on 1988's Surfer Rosa, the full-length debut recorded by Steve Albini, there's no going back. The demo is much tamer all around, and it doesn't have that breathless cut in Black Francis' opening line, where the end of the word 'face' is lopped off, and he screeches again, "I got a..."

Similarly, "Break My Body," just doesn't have quite the edge it has on Surfer Rosa, though they're practically the same note-for-note. And the same could be said for "I'm Amazed" if not for one critical difference from its Rosa version-- an odd, euphonious bridge that recalls later 4AD-ers His Name Is Alive. Some might call this bridge a nice breather, but, like a speed bump in the Daytona 500, it kills the track's scorching momentum.

A cover of Peter Ivers' "In Heaven (Lady in the Radiator Song)"-- listed here simply as "In Heaven"-- is also disposable, as the band's live version on the "Gigantic" single and the Complete 'B' Sides compilation has more raw emotion-- which, to be blunt, just means that Francis' screams at the end of the song sound better. "Down to the Well," meanwhile, would be more compelling than its slicker cousin on 1990's surf-rock-inspired Bossanova if not for Francis' screaming on the version found here, an irritating dog howl.

But there are some positives. For those of you who were always turned off by the bouncy pop of the "Here Comes Your Man" heard on 1989's Doolittle, the version on Pixies is like sugar-free gum-- in a good way. Also, the original incarnation of "Build High" is without the slight irritation that mars its successor, which ended up as a b-side for 1991's Trompe le Monde (and appears on the aforementioned compilation). The demo cut of "Subbacultcha" is also preferable to the Trompe le Monde version, as it contains a part musically similar to "Distance Equals Rate Times Time" that befits the song's ambling, storytelling technique.

Most of you-- those who aren't completists, that is-- should ignore everything I've just written. Because all you really care about is the one track that hasn't been officially released until now: "Rock A My Soul." Is it worth buying the whole album for? Sorry, no. It is, however, a stellar track with a chorus in which Francis' titular plea is punctuated on drums and guitar by brutish stop-and-starts. It would have fit in perfectly on Pilgrim or Rosa.

It is truly amazing that these songs were the first the band ever laid to tape. Removed from any context-- namely, the later re-recordings of most of these tunes-- they're better than most anything released this year. But these demos were born 15 years ago, and then were essentially locked in the basement for years. Now, freed of any restraints, they can't just enter daylight, show up on peoples' doorsteps and expect to be loved.